Ke Aloha (Beloved)
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: The one where Steve's absolutely smitten with his partner, Danny pretends to be bad at reading signals, and the results are one great, sticky mess in paradise.


Given the nature of their current case, it's absolutely no surprise that Danny looks like he's ready to kill a man without prompting.

Three months he's been here – three – and Steve is pretty damned sure that he never saw stuff like this back in New Jersey. Not that Jersey doesn't have its share of problems with the underbelly of society – everywhere does. It's crime, it's as old as human existence. Steve just doesn't think that some of the cases Danny tackled were as… exotic.

For two days straight now they've been locking an apartment complex. Eight stories, minimal view of the ocean or mountains, and absolutely abysmal living conditions. Indeed, it's barely more than a slum. Steve doesn't like to think of his home state as having these kinds of places and yet, here's the literally concrete proof – they just aren't mentioned in the guidebooks. Just that this particular dump had with it one of the slightly nastier but displeasingly common illegal elements – prostitution AND drugs. The girls working here – although working is but a substitute for slavery in this case – had not only been forced to ply their oldest profession trade but also act as security for the guys cooking the meth in each rat infested apartment. They had finally gotten the tip for the place from a former Yakuza man in exchange for two years shortening of his sentence.

Not that it had made a ton of difference, given he was going away for twenty five plus.

Steve hates meth labs. Absolutely hates them. He knows that nature of the drug, has seen it ruin more than one life. It sucks, and it's so fucking dangerous to be in here with anything that might cause a spark. Using guns to break into the place hadn't been an option, lest they all got blown clear to Pearl Harbor. So there had been knives and kicks and lots of blood. Three of those girls had died trying to defend a place they'd been brainwashed into thinking was their ticket to freedom, enough money to go live on the mainland. It gives Steve a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Granted he's seen some really, _really_ messed up shit and this doesn't even come close to the worst – but it still sucks. It always, always sucks because it could have been prevented in the first place.

It still doesn't make it any less painful for Danny.

He's bent over one of those girls now, too sick or strung out to move even though they've managed to find other places for the rest of them. She doesn't look a touch over fifteen.

Probably younger.

Danny's been with her for an hour and a half now, talking to her, calming her down. He bears a series of scratch marks over the side of his face where she'd attempted to defend herself. Tough looking guy with a gun approaching, yeah – Steve doesn't really blame her. She's probably fucking terrified right now.

As Steve approaches, he hears Danny speaking to her in a low voice. Of course the girl doesn't comprehend a bit of English; maybe if Danny knew Japanese they'd be getting somewhere. Steve could try but his master of the tongue is parsimonious at best, and Danny's always been a lot better at talking victims and witnesses down. Steve likes that about him, that soft edge Danny would much rather use than the razor sharpness Steve knows he has.

Actually, make that just one thing he likes about Danny.

Two weeks – that's it – is all it had taken for Steve to figure out "oh shit, I like this guy." Steve's comfortable with his bisexuality, always has been. He just hasn't told Danny. Really there's a lot he hasn't told Danny – including that he's starred in his sex dreams for the last months solid - but they've still got time. Lots of it. Provided they don't get shot or stabbed or worse before one of them can say anything.

Steve bends down next to Danny, mostly looking at the girl but also watching the pink bow of his lips; Steve's had more than a few dirty thoughts about that mouth, none of which are appropriate and all of which involve them somewhere on Steve's body taking him apart, atom by atom.

"Hey," Steve whispers. Danny's trying his best to keep the girl conscious but trauma and substance abuse are taking their toll at a sadly rapid pace. Better to be there with him if she dies rather than leaving him alone.

Danny turns his head just long enough to look at Steve and shake his head. The look in his eyes is more than enough to tell him the girl is dead.

Make that four.

Steve puts a hand on Danny's shoulder, fingers spread and palm flat so that he covers as much surface as possible; Danny's skin is warm even through the fabric of his button down. He's not wearing an undershirt today, either; it's in the nineties and even Steve's regretting keeping on his bullet proof vest.

Danny sags a little under the weight, too much adrenaline having run through his system too fast and now he's been drained to the point of exhaustion – watching this girl die didn't help either. Steve has never denied to anyone that this line of work isn't emotionally draining, because it is.

The worst part is, he's sure Danny's seen Grace in this girl's face. Steve isn't a father; he doesn't quite fathom that connection. But he sure as hell knows his partner, even if Danny doesn't think so. Steve does pay attention, he has to, and Danny's not been any different in that regard.

"She's been dead for ten minutes, Steve. Haven't told anyone yet." Danny sounds like his vocal chords have been torn out and put back in the wrong way.

Steve takes his hand off Danny's shoulder. "Told me."

"Yeah, you don't count. You don't have the fancy jacket that says 'coroner' on it." Danny offers him a weak smile and starts to stand, Steve going with him.

"I could be a coroner if I wanted." Steve turns away deliberately from the body, leading he and Danny back out the door. Sunlight's going to do both of them a world of good right now.

"No, you couldn't. You're big enough to be Frankenstein's monster already, don't think you ought to spend too much time with your own kind." Even humor doesn't mask just how run down Danny is. Steve moves a little closer into his space, too close – but it's crowded out here with people and equipment, they can get away with it.

"Thought Frankenstein _was_ the monster."

"See, I'm not even surprised you have that wrong. No respect for the classics, _none_."

"What, and you actually paid attention in literature class?" Steve crosses his arms, then regrets it; he'd collided with more than one wall, hard, and his muscles are still sore.

"I did. I was a good student, you know? We weren't allowed to slack off in school. That's what normal parents do, Steven, not teach their kids the finer points of being a Neanderthal."

Steve answers with a beaming smile. "Hey, Mom wasn't that ugly."

"Oh I'm sure of that. You're just big like one, not hideous." There's a momentary flash of panic on Danny's exhaustion lined face, like he didn't mean for that to come out.

It gives Steve no small measure of hope. He keeps his face passive, but his heart skips a few beats. He kind of hates being smitten, because it makes him feel like he is in high school all over again.

"Yeah, well… thanks. Think I do alright for myself."

Danny just nods, and then looks down at his shirt. "I uh, have meth on me. Gonna… gonna go get cleaned up." Steve notices the pink flush around Danny's neck and finds himself wondering how far it goes down. A gruesome crime scene is so not the place to giving his dick consideration but fuck, Steve kind of can't help himself.

Before Danny gets too far, Steve grabs him by the arm to get his attention. "Hey, you want to get a beer?"

Steve tries to sound casual about it, really. The trouble is casual is kind of hard to manage right now, not after Danny _may_ have alluded to being _maybe_ hot for him. Yeah, this is fucking tenth grade all over again and his inner voice sounds exactly the same. It's easy when he's trying to just pick up a hook up for a night; this is Danny, and Danny kind of makes him weak in the knees in a way that only a couple other people have been able to.

Danny's face brightens a little, and Steve finds that hopeful feeling coming back. "Yeah. Might want something stronger than beer, though."

"Hey, no turning into an alcoholic on me."

"What, are you kidding me? Rachel wouldn't let me get into something more powerful than her, trust me on that one my friend."

The mention of Danny's ex-wife makes something sour bubble up into the back of Steve's throat – jealousy tastes nasty.

"Tell you what – the first time you fall down, I'll stop you."

"What makes you think I'm gonna fall down?" Danny crosses his arms over his chest and Steve has to bite his tongue to not stare at his forearms. Danny's definitely been hitting the weights lately, and it shows.

"Just a hunch."

"I think you just want me to get drunk so you can hold my hair while I puke it all back up."

"If that's your idea of a good night, we need to sit down and rethink that for you."

"For me? At least I don't get up at two in the morning to commune with the whales in my backyard." Danny starts to walk away again, and Steve follows.

"For the last time, _there are no whales._"

Steve gives himself two seconds to stare at Danny's ass before he decides any longer will give himself away.

Steve's bathroom mirror squeaks in protest as he wipes off the condensation.

He'd spent forty five minutes in the shower, scrubbing every inch of his body at least three times; it's not his fault that slums are gross as hell. He still feels dirty, but there's not much else he can do – the hot water was starting to run out.

He readjusts the towel around his waist as he fills the sink with water, razor and Barbasol shaving cream ready at hand. His face is dark with stubble, too dark even for him. It's itchy to the point of aggravation and besides, there's a chance – albeit maybe a small one – he might screw up enough courage tonight to spill to Danny. Sure it's possible the guy might take a swing at him or laugh in his face but Steve's mostly prepared for it. Of course if things go the other way, he wants to be smooth.

Hell he even shaved his junk in the shower just in case things turn out _super _great.

Steve doesn't take a lot of time thinking about how it happened, for him at least. Danny's smart as a whip and okay, he's got a mouth on him but Steve loves that. The more Danny talks, the better – it means his lips are moving, and Danny's lips are really nice to look at. That and Danny isn't a pushover – he pushes back just as hard, and then some, stubborn as a mule but a lot more fun to be around.

Danny's fun outside of work, too. Steve knows they see a lot of each other during the day but most of the time, he doesn't want to stop. Chin and Kono are alright, but they're just… not Danny. Chin's quiet, and Kono's young – too young to be hanging around with the likes of Steve. It's kind of like being with a kid sister, except she could break your neck without so much as a thought.

The thing is, Danny's been upfront about who he is from the get go. There isn't any deception or trickery, no hiding – he's just Danny, thank you very much, and you can take it or leave it. Honesty's a turn on in Steve's book, and Danny's as blunt as a knight stick.

"McGarrett, are you really gonna do this?" Steve implores his reflection for an answer, face covered in shaving cream up to his eyes and all the way down his neck. Receiving no answer, he touches the sharp blade to his skin and makes like clockwork, done in less than ten minutes. He dabs on some aftershave – the same kind his dad used – and leaves the bathroom, dropping the towel in his clothes hamper.

It's just drinks, moreover drinks with his partner but it's hard to not dress himself up a little bit. He doesn't spring for a t-shirt or work shirt – too casual. There are a bunch of dress shirts he hardly ever touches towards the back of his closet, and he hopes he can still fit into them.

There are two, a black one and a deep maroon that he doesn't ever recall wearing. The maroon one has a bleach stain right down the left side so black it is. It's too tight on his forearms so he rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, tucking them so that they won't come loose.

Underwear is next.

Steve doesn't exactly own "sexy" underwear – most of the time he's after something that will come off fast, and his dates aren't exactly in the mood for him to model. Still, he does have one pair of boxer briefs that make his junk look good even if they bind a little. Nothing fancy, but they make him feel a little better. He steps into them, adjusting his balls so that they'll stay in one place. He's tempted to rub one out, just in case things go get hot and heavy he won't have to worry about the show ending early.

But again – this is just drinks, and Danny's not made any sort of solid intention.

He knows Danny will make a remark if he wears jeans, so he puts on his best pair. They're a little too tight as well – his glutes have gotten bigger since he last wore them – but that can only be for the better. He foregoes a belt, figuring they're going to stay up just fine without its minimal help.

Five minutes later, he walks downstairs, listening to his own boot clad feet as he steps on fifty year old wood and heads out the door. He's already decided he won't be drinking much, so he'll drive – if he drinks at all.

If he's going to be asking Danny out, he's going to be sober for it – no alcohol fueled suggestions tonight.

They really only have one bar they go to, a place not far from Five-O headquarters. It's quiet, the beer's always cold, and the bartender's never been one to ask questions – definitely Steve's kind of place. When Steve walks in, he finds Danny sitting in a booth already working on his third beer.

"Didn't see your car outside," Steve says, remaining standing.

Danny swallows his mouthful of Heineken before he answers. "Took a cab. Didn't plan on racking up a DUI." Danny looks Steve up and down, whistling. "So the Neanderthal does own jeans."

Steve owes himself five dollars.

"Yeah well… something about work and play being separate." Hey, at least Danny gave him a good once over. It's a start.

"Sit down, McGarrett. We're supposed to be relaxing, not looking ready to jump the next perp that comes in the door." Danny smiles as he takes another swig and pushes a bottle towards Steve.

"You ordered ahead for me? Aw, babe, that's sweet." Steve smiles as he flicks the cap off with his thumb, doing it just to make Danny give him that "are you actually a human" look.

"Wasn't gonna wait for you that long. I'm thirsty, you know? Kind of hard to not sit in a bar and not order anything, that's just rude."

Steve holds up his bottle towards the middle of the table. "What are we drinking to?"

Danny thinks for a second, eyes locked with Steve's. God, they're dark blue tonight, pupils wide and the corners looking far more relaxed than earlier.

"Danny?"

Danny looks away, wetting his already wet lips and clearing his throat. "Uh, to King Kamehameha. May we keep the old bastard's rock safe as long as we can."

They both drink, Steve taking just a sip and Danny half the bottle. "Didn't know you could say Kamehameha."

Danny points to himself, like 'can you believe this guy' – "of course I know how to say it. And I know who he is, for your information."

"Really?"

"Hey, I brushed up on my local knowledge a _little _bit before I moved out here." Danny sits back with a self-satisfied smile. He's wearing one of his button downs and gray pants, much the same as normal but there's no tie, not tonight.

"Where's the tie, Danno?"

Danny shrugs. "It's play, remember?"

"Touche." Steve smiles and shifts his feet, accidentally bumping Danny's leg when he does.

"Uh, sorry." Did he really just apologize for touching him by mistake? Come on McGarrett, pull yourself together.

"No harm done, Steven, I'm not gonna break if you step on me."

"Wouldn't be right to end your life that way – pretty sure there's something in the Bible about being kind to creatures great and small."

"Think that's Buddhism you're talking about." Steve's searching for a reply as Danny drains the rest of his beer and looks around wistfully for another. "Shit, we need more booze."

"Need?"

Danny fixes him with a look that had it been anyone else, they would have backed down. "Yeah, need. I know what I'm doing Steve."

Steve holds his hand up in a gesture of surrender – but decides to keep a close eye on Danny all the same. "You're a grown man, you do what you want."

Danny heads to the bar without saying anything back. Steve watches for any sign that Danny's actually plastered - only he suspects that Danny's deliberately trying to will his legs to work correctly. He still doesn't say anything, not even when Danny comes back to the table with a round of shots.

Steve takes a whiff – vodka. It's never really been his drink but a man's poison is his poison, and Danny doesn't exactly look to be in an arguing mood.

"I thought we were relaxing, not trying to get ourselves a stomach pump."

"This is relaxing – we do a couple shots, throw some darts, do a couple more – you get the picture." Danny's already tilting a glass to his lips and doesn't bat an eye as he downs it before picking up another.

"You know this place doesn't have a dart board, right?"

"Does it not?"

"No."

Danny swallows down more Absolut and then blows his lips out, mumbling "thought for sure we played darts here once." He's looking at the wall, obviously expecting a dart board to materialize from thin air.

Steve sets down his shot and pushes it aside. "Don't think it's gonna just appear, Danno."

Danny turns back to Steve, leaning heavily on the table once his body's facing forward again. "Yeah well… we don't always get what we want, you know?"

Steve freezes.

"What do you mean?"

Danny scrubs his face with the palm of his hand, blinking to try and clear the alcohol-induced fog in his mind – and then taking another shot. Once he's sure it's not going to come right back up on him, he says "that girl today… Steve she was… fuck, you saw her, right?"

Suddenly, Steve's intentions seem incredibly out of place – Danny's in a place right now that won't be helped by Steve foisting his romantic intentions upon him.

But he's still here for him.

"Danny, look we-"

"Don't fucking tell me there wasn't anything we could do, alright?" The slight crack in Danny's voice cuts deep, far deeper than any knife Steve's ever taken. "She… god, she has a father. And a mother, and a family who loves her. Bet they would have…" Danny takes a breath, looking down at the scrub-worn table top.

"Would have what?"

"Would have forgiven her. She was scared Steve – really, really scared. I just… I hate that she thinks her last moments were spent with someone who wanted to hurt her." Danny reaches for another shot but Steve grips him by the wrist, fingers tightening fast around the cords of muscle – they feel incredible under his touch.

Danny retracts his hand fast, nearly knocking over an empty bottle. "Get off, Steve." He snarls, and Steve sees the wounded look pass behind his eyes before he hardens them.

"Danny, come on."

"I'm not going anywhere." Danny looks at the vodka, then back to Steve, and then finally at the table top again.

"Yeah, and getting wasted isn't going to solve anything." Steve keeps his voice soft – the less time Danny spends looking angry at him, the better.

"The fuck it won't."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Danny really doesn't have the fight in him right now to go toe to toe with Steve's reasons as to why he shouldn't be doing what he's doing.

Steve sighs, looking kind of past Danny. He looks bone weary, drunk, and this close to breaking down. It's scary, because this guy – ever irrepressible, always ready with a good-natured crack at Steve's expense – isn't smiling, or laughing, or trying to get under Steve's skin in his own charming way. No, he just looks like a man who's been pushed past his breaking point and is holding onto both ends while his arms get pulled out of their sockets.

Knowing that he can indeed catch him if he decides to run, Steve reaches out and puts his hand on Danny's left arm, trying to make the gesture as comforting as possible. "Danno, that girl wasn't Grace. She's at home right now, she's safe in her room and she's not going to end up being a meth addicted hooker. You won't let her."

Danny doesn't move, just sits with hunched shoulders and his right hand covering the upper half of his face. It's like all his muscles, every last one, are bunched up and it's gonna take a hell of a lot effort to loosen them up. Steve pushes caution a little further away, rubbing Danny's arm from his wrist to his bicep. He's seen it before – back in his SEAL days, there was a lot of this. Guys who wouldn't admit they needed a break, a hug, a friend, only to find themselves so beat up mentally that Steve saw more than a couple of his comrades go off the deep end.

It's never pretty, ever, and Steve remembers all too vividly how badly PTSD can take down even the strongest – and Danny Williams is one of the most formidable he's ever met.

Steve gets up and goes over to Danny's side of the booth, wedging himself into the small bit of space towards the edge. He puts an arm over Danny's shoulders, hugging his partner close to his body.

Danny looks up, furtively wiping his eyes as he does. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a hug."

"I don't need one."

"Yeah Danny, you do." Steve gets his other arm around him as best he can – and Danny comes willingly, Steve daring anyone to look at them and tell them what they're doing is wrong. If anything, he'll tell them it's for the good of the state of Hawaii and that they should mind their own damned business.

Steve also notices two things while he's got his arms wrapped around Danny.

One, he smells good. Sure he spends a lot of time in a car and other confined spaces with the guy but now he really smells him – Danny smells sweet, like old leather. Secondly, his back muscles are insanely defined – he's not seen Danny shirtless yet, whether out of modesty or coincidence he's not really sure – but Steve can definitely tell Danny spends time working on it.

Steve wills down about six different thoughts telling him to screw consideration and be flat out honest with Danny right then and there.

"Get off of me, you caveman." Danny pushes himself away gently, trying for a smile. "I'm…" Danny belches, then holds his stomach. "'m fine."

"Like hell you are." Steve gets up and returns to his side of the booth. "And your breath stinks."

"Your breath stinks, said the Cro Magnon." Danny's attempt at being mocking is kind of ruined by the heavy slur the vodka's gifted to him.

"Do you just spend your time looking up different pre-humans to insult me or do you actually have an interest in anthropology?"

Danny narrows his gaze, looking like Steve's just rattled off an entire speech in Mandarin to him. "I don't…" Danny waves his hand like it's going to help conjur up the words he's so desperately scrabbling for.

"I'll ask you in the morning. C'mon Danno, now we're going." Steve gets up and hands the bartender a fifty, tells him to keep the change, and then comes back to help Danny up.

"Dude, are you even good to…." Danny makes a steering motion – or at least that's his intention. To Steve it looks like he's milking a cow.

"Yeah, I'm good to – " Steve mimics the gesture back to him, and Danny snorts a laugh.

"You look like you're milking a cow. No cows in Hawaii, I checked."

Steve helps him up, Danny being positively useless in the process. "Nope, not a one."

It's an adventure getting back to Steve's truck, and Danny promptly passes out once he's strapped in. Steve rolls down his window, just in case he needs to puke. There's no guarantee that he won't – but Steve can try.

Traffic is light, and getting back to his house is blissfully uneventful. Still, he's got to carry Danny at his point – not that it's an entirely awful task. Steve's big enough to admit that he's thought about this before, carrying Danny in his arms. Not necessarily in an "I'm so drunk I can't move" fashion but for now, he'll take what he can get. There's no harm in helping the guy.

Danny comes to when Steve's trying to unlock the door. "Don't remember getting here."

"You're welcome," Steve says, and pushes the door open.

"What did… did you carry me?"

Steve shrugs. "Maybe."

Danny doesn't say anything, but Steve sees the gratitude in his expresion. There'll be ribbing about this later, he's sure, but for now, there's not really much he can say.

Steve helps him to the guest bedroom – complete with fresh sheets and pillow cases, because Steve's awesome like that – and sets Danny down on the edge of the bed. He devotes himself to the task of taking Danny's shoes off, Danny not doing much more to help than leaning against Steve and mumbling.

"You're gonna have to speak up Danno. Kinda hard of hearing in this ear."

"Cause you play horse grenades." Danny smiles and laughs drunkenly to himself – vodka's bestowed him with wit that only he finds to be in the least bit funny.

"I do?"

"Yeah – cause horse shoes are… you know, not explosions enough." Danny's trying to talk and laugh at the same time – it's adorable. Of course Steve would never say it out loud, because you don't do that.

But it's still adorable.

"I like things other than explosions." Steve gets Danny's socks off and puts them in his shoes, deciding that he's going to stop now before things take a really, really bad turn and he has explaining to do in the morning. Still, he revels in the feeling of Danny's calves as he swings them up on the bed – there's power here, and not a ton of give to the legs of his pants – Danny's got them filled out nicely and hell if Steve doesn't want to kiss every inch of them.

Danny's mumbling again, and clearly losing his grip on consciousness. Steve tries to tuck him under the covers as best he can but Danny's not budging, content to lie there and let Steve do all the work.

"You're a lifesaver, Steven, for real. Man, I love you like, so fucking much right now." Danny's half open eyes are glassy and his cheeks flushed with booze.

Or, so Steve would see had he not stopped listening after Danny said "I love you."

"Danny…" Steve's not going to let himself think Danny's actually serious – the guy's wasted.

Still…

"C'mere a second," Danny slurs, and before Steve can protest Danny's got his arms around his neck and is pulling him in towards his body. Steve returns the embrace as best he can, burying his nose in Danny's chest and inhaling. Reek of liquor aside, Danny smells even more fantastic here, his too warm body and the way he's rubbing Steve's upper back making Steve's dick jump in a way it really shouldn't.

"Danny, let me go."

"Uh uh."

"Danny, come on, you're drunk, and…" Steve absolutely hates the words coming out of his mouth right now. Really, really hates them but there is now way in hell this is how it's going to play out.

But it does give Steve at least some notion of what exactly is going through his partner's head – and Steve's been working at figuring it out since day one.

"Love you, Steven, like…" Danny's words stop, and then his grip loosens considerably. Steve whips his head up to make sure that Danny's not actually… gone. No, just passed out, and not a moment too soon, either. Steve moves like lightning, grabbing a couple spare garbage cans and putting them on either side of the bed should Danny hurl in the middle of the night. His mind is racing, "I love you" and that fumbling hug and this whole fucking evening zipping around his mind like a business of cracked out ferrets.

Steve goes to the kitchen and drinks two glasses of water, one right after the other, ignoring the inappropriate boner throbbing in his jeans. He makes it to his bedroom before he's tearing off his clothes, careful to not shut the door too hard and wake Danny – even though the chances of actually doing that are slim.

He's also not been this achingly hard in a long,_ long_ time.

Steve kicks his jeans and underwear from around his ankles like they've personally offended him, the wad of fabric ending up halfway across the room; his shirt soon follows. It's cool in here, having left his bathroom window open after his shower for the air to circulate. It makes his nipples pebble and he stops halfway to his bed, tweaking his left one so hard that he feels a drop of precome bead at the end of his cock of its own accord.

He knows his chances of being able to stand while he touches himself are slim at best, so he makes it to the bed and lies down. He keeps working his nipple while he palms his cock, swollen to the max, his balls drawn up tight around the base in spite of the warm night. He strokes slowly, not at all ashamed to imagine Danny's hand on him. He chances a look down at himself and watches the precome leak over the head of his cock. Even in the darkened room he can see the slick trail it leaves over the blood-purple skin. The temptation to taste himself is entirely too strong but he knows from experience that as soon as it hits his tongue he's a goner; this needs needs to last as long as he can make it.

"This is for you, Danno," he whispers to his bedroom. God, he wants right now, so fucking badly that he's thrusting against empty air, picturing Danny hovering over him, cocks pressed together. If Danny's skin is warm Steve can only imagine what his dick would feel like against his own – the thought nearly sends him over the edge and Steve has to grab his balls and pull_ hard_ to stop himself.

Breathing hard, Steve rolls over and opens his bedside drawer. He finds his lube in the front left corner, the same place it's been since he was old enough to buy it himself. He grabs it and drops it between his spread legs, then grabs a condom from his box of Magnums. He only ever uses them when he's with a woman – the rest of the time, they're on the other guy. God, Danny would be a great top – all of that energy could be focused down to one thing – fucking Steve senseless – and hell, Steven's imagined just about every possible permutation of Danny fucking him. Doggy, face to face, over the hood of the car, in his living room – if Steve has anything to say about it, he'll make it come true.

"Fuck, Danno, need you so fucking badly." Steve grabs his dildo next and teases it over his hole, the silicone head inhumanly cold. Steve groans, fishing for his lube and pouring it over the whole length; it's fairly nondescript, just something he bought at a sex store a few years ago but hell if it's not been Danny for the last few months, every opportunity he has. He's definitely lost a few hours here and there, fucking himself stupid and imagining that gorgeous blonde hair all mussed and sweaty as he pants against Steve's neck, urging "just one more time, babe" from him.

Steve hastily applies lube to his hole, urgent to be filled, even if it isn't the real thing. He fingers himself for barely enough time to be stretched but caution be _damned_, he needs this now. Right before he slides the dildo home he gets the condom and unwraps it with his teeth, mournfully taking his hand off his cock to put it on. It's a near thing because the pressure once it's secure is almost too much, once again teetering on that edge – but Steve has a specific purpose in mind for it, so he waits until the throbbing that's making his whole body pulse subsides enough for him to continue.

It's a slight feat of athleticism to find the best angle for this work, but he gets it in just a minute; his left foot against the baseboard, keeping his lower body pushed up in the air just a touch, left hand hooked under his thigh and working the dildo in and out, his right hand stroking himself with long, slow motions that make his vision swim. The mental picture of Danny doing this, jerking him off while he slowly fucks him is one of Steve's standards in the ever-expanding playlist of "positions I want Danno to do me in." It's almost too stimulating, the dildo angled just perfectly to hit his prostate every time he pushes it back in.

"Danny, Danny, Danny," Steve pants; he's trying to stay quiet, fully aware that the walls of this house are thin as hell and the chances of Danny waking up are entirely real. He doesn't care enough to stop though, because there's also a chance he will be heard and maybe, just maybe Danny will come in here and he won't have to say anything, just cut right to it and there won't be any awkwardness until the light of day.

Steve pauses, listening for footsteps.

He hears nothing but the burble of water from outside and his own breathing.

He decides to risk it even further and sits up, keeping the dildo firmly in place with his hand as he gets on his knees. His bed's not the most stable place for riding the damn thing but he's going to try anyway; besides, he's so close to coming that thirty seconds of this is all it's going to take.

"Gonna come for you Danny" – it comes out raspy, fucked out, like Steve's just ran an uphill marathon and at the summit is Danny, naked on a chaise lounge and his cock wet and ready for him. Steve bites his lip, his dildo right fucking there and he finds that sweet spot just behind his glans and squeezes, short, sharp motions making his body rock as his orgasm fills the end of the condom. Steve watches as the tip fills with spunk, pearly white and God, so fucking much. He rides his dildo until there's not a drop left to spare and eases himself down, wincing as he takes out his toy and waits for the shaking to slack off.

It's a task to get the condom off without making a mess but he manages, forcing himself to focus long enough to get it off and turn it so that the full end faces down, hovering just a couple inches above his chest. He rolls the it between his fingers, his come hot through the latex.

"Come in my mouth, Danny" – hearing the words pass from his own lips make his cock twitch in defiance, swelling back to half-mast as he upends the condom onto his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut as the bittersweet tastes overwhelms his senses, very much wanting it to be Danny straddling his chest as he finishes in his mouth and on his face. He's so familiar with the taste of his own body that the fantasy is almost ruined; he pushes on, rolling his come around in his mouth and licking the inside of the condom clean. The taste of the lube inside is just the slightest bit off putting but hell if he's going to let it stop him.

Steve squeezes the last couple drops from his dick and licks his fingers clean, his exhaustion finally starting to win; he closes his eyes as he swirls his tongue around each and every knuckle, aware that Danny's fingers are just as callused and rough as his own. He's thought about those fingers on his body right after coming from the shooting range, the adrenaline of handling a firearm and the smell of gunpowder heavy on both of them, Danny's voice thick with desire as he tells Steve to get his fingers wet so he can prep him. Fuck, it almost makes him hard again – but his body says no, and the bruises and long hours of the last two days now have a firm hold on him.

He manages to hobble to the bathroom and brush his teeth, perfunctorily cleaning himself off lube and spunk while he does with a wipe; hazards of the job, but so fucking worth it. He has half a mind to go down the hall and crawl into the guest bed with Danny, just in case he needs something in the night but he refrains – it's still not the time for this.

Steve falls asleep with Danny's drunken "I love yous" lulling him into blackness.

Morning finds Steve to not be the first one awake.

He smells coffee wafting up from downstairs, along with his phone full of messages from Chin and Kono wondering where the hell he is. He shoots off a fast reply, apologizing, telling him that today, Thursday, through Tuesday are absolutely mandatory vacation days. There is mostly a truth to it – they've been working practically non-stop for three months solid now, and they all need a break.

Hell, Steve's gonna need a full day just to recover from last night.

Working through his mind what exactly it is he's going to say to Danny in the light of day as he pulls on a t-shirt and gym shorts, he doesn't really feel much like talking. He's really, really hoping that Danny will do all of it for them, preferably in the direction of "yeah I heard you last night, sounded like you were having fun, next time may I join you" – ideally, that's what will happen.

He rounds the bend at the bottom of the stairs and heads to the kitchen. Danny's at the stove, making what smells an awful lot like an omelet; Steve's stomach growls in kind. For the moment, any feelings of romantic intent are pushed aside in anticipation of a good breakfast. Maybe that's why Danny always looks so upbeat coming into work in the mornings – it's the omelets he's mentioned more than once.

Danny turns to face Steve when his partner materializes at the coffee pot. "Glad you decided to come out of your cave there, brother." Danny smiles at him, no trace of hangover or exhaustion on his face – and no sign that he heard Steve fucking himself silly last night, either.

"Well I had to get up and see how far gone my kitchen was. If it was anything like how you treat your apartment, well... I know you wouldn't mind if I called in a haz-mat crew." Steve's eyes smile as he looks at Danny over the rim of his plain, blue mug.

"Hey, my apartment is very clean. I can't help that the guy who lives there isn't home all the time to keep it straight. No, I'm following you through windows and blowing up meth labs along with all manner of insanity." Danny flips the omelet with obvious ease and Steve eyes it hungrily.

"Want one?"

"Hm?"

"An omelet, you want one?"

Steve shakes his head. "I wouldn't want to trouble you, I'll just have some toast." He starts to make for the toaster but Danny places himself in his path before he makes it two steps.

"No, you won't. You carry my drunk ass into _your_ house last night, I make you an omelet. It's only fair, my friend." Neither Danny's tone nor the set of his shoulders leaves a ton of room for argument.

"How do you know I even like omelets?" Steve sets his coffee cup on the table and eases himself into a chair.

"You'll like mine, believe me – even Rachel could stand them when she was in the mood for it." Steve notices chopped vegetables on the counter next to the stove, along with an open carton of fresh eggs. The easy domesticity of this particular moment makes his insides clench in such a way that he has to look away before he just sidles up behind Danny and puts his arms round him.

"I didn't have any of that stuff," Steve finally says. He gestures to the colorful array of food on the counter.

"You're welcome, by the way. You don't go grocery shopping often, do you?"

"No, why?"

"Because, I was not going to eat an omelet made of eggs that expired three weeks ago and a bag of lettuce that was probably rotten before I even got to Hawaii. Nice meat though, that's sure to keep you running in top condition." Danny's already started to mix the ingredients for Steve's omelet, his back turned to him. Steve sees that Danny's got his clothes back on, save for his shoes. For some reason that probably has more to do with fantasy than a foot fetish, the sight of Danny's bare feet on his kitchen floor makes Steve's stomach turn itself inside out in a good way.

"Nothing wrong with steak for dinner."

Danny scoffs. "Yeah, not for every night bro. You need veggies too."

"Veggies?"

"Yeah, veggies. They have vitamins and minerals in them."

"I'm glad you're becoming my own personal nutrition councilor, it's very helpful to have that knowledge." Steve checks out Danny's ass; he didn't have a chance to really look last night, but these pants do absolute wonders for it. God, Danny Williams has a fucking bubble butt and Steve has to dig a fingernail into his palm to keep from popping a boner.

"I do it for free, too – which is probably better for you anyway. Hate to charge you for my knowledge." The sizzle of the saucepan makes it hard to hear Danny, so Steve leans in a little closer to listen.

"There's surprisingly little of your knowledge I actually need but you decide to share anyway." Steve wants more coffee but hell if he's getting up until he's absolutely sure he's not hard anymore; he's regretting not putting on underwear.

Danny turns around and waves a spatula at him. "I'm just trying to improve you as a person, McGarrett. Make you ready for that day when someone decides to shack up with you and you don't turn out to be a complete failure at I don't know, doing normal human being stuff."

Steve has to swallow hot coffee fast, because he's very much imagining Danny being that someone.

"I do 'normal human stuff' just fine, Danno. You just haven't seen enough of me doing it."

There's this look that Danny gets just then, quick as a flash but that's all the time Steve needs; he's picturing Steve doing quite a lot, and probably inserting himself into the situation alongside him. Or in him.

Hell.

Danny recovers before Steve even has a chance to say anything. "Yeah well… I spend enough time with you anyway. I'm sure you do alright for yourself." Danny turns back to the stove and takes the omelet out of the pan, done to perfection.

Setting it down in front of Steve, he says "better eat up – we're already late for work as it is."

"No, we aren't. I'm instituting a mandatory vacation. We all need a break, don't you think?"

Danny pours himself a cup of coffee, Steve not touching his breakfast until he sits down to join him. "Yeah."

"I know you wanted to see Grace this weekend – especially after uh, you know." Steve's not going to foist that memory on Danny if he can help it but he's afraid the damage is already done. Good job, McGarrett.

"Yeah." Danny sits down across from Steve and stares at his plate. "Look, about last night – thanks. I know that wasn't exactly my most shining moment."

Steve holds his hand up, palm turned towards Danny. "No need to say anything – I know you would have done the same for me."

"I couldn't have carried you, you know. Maybe with a horse cart but definitely not bridal style."

Steve nearly chokes on a bell pepper on the word "bridal."

"Did you even cut up these peppers?" Steve pats himself on the back for the fast cover up. Don't let it go unsaid he can't think on his feet.

"Hey, it's for flavoring! You don't cut up peppers into tiny ass pieces for an omelet. Really, Steven, I don't take back any caveman remarks."

Steve furrows his brow into a pretty decent imitation of a pre-human. "Me caveman, me only eat meat."

Danny laughs, nearly spitting out his food. "You're a lunatic."

"It's your fault"

"How – how is it possibly my fault." Steve lets his eyes linger for a split second on Danny's throat as he washes down omelet with a swig of coffee.

"You're too tight, Danny. Gotta stay loose, you know?"

"And rubbing your batshit police/SEAL/whatever methods onto me is supposed to make me 'looser?' Tell me, what in my dossier said that in any universe that would work?"

Steve shrugs, leaning forward as he spears another piece of omelet with his fork. "Just a guess."

Danny shakes his head. "There's absolutely no helping you, you're aware of that right? Maybe that's why I'm here, because your subconscious told you that you need a stabilizing force in your life so that you don't lop off a hand or mistakenly go through a wall from twenty stories up."

"I can't go through walls."

"Sure." Danny doesn't at all sound like he believes him.

"Seriously!"

"I'm sure you could if you had to." Danny points at him with his fork and waves it back and forth, indicating towards his shoulders. "That can't all be for show."

Hey, at least Danny's noticed his shoulders – and it's a good thing, too. Steve's quite proud of them.

"Good for climbing mountains and colliding with evildoers."

"Evildoers? What, are you Superman now?"

"Nah – the whole journalism thing wouldn't work for me."

Danny nods in agreement and eats more of his omelet. They sit in silence for a while, chewing thoughtfully and looking at each other when the other isn't.

"Listen, Steve – I'm not seeing Grace this weekend."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah – some bullshit about my hours being cut back so… no dice. But if you wanted to do something I mean… I'd go. Unless you want to just be by yourself for a few days and if you do, I get it."

Steve wants to shout to heaven a very loud thank you – it's not often opportunities are handed to him on a silver – or blonde, in this case – platter.

"Actually, I was gonna get out of the city for a couple days. You're welcome to come, if you want."

"Really? Where are you going? Cave in the mountains?" Danny gives him a half smile and Steve returns it with a full one.

"Close – camping. I know a really good spot up in the hills. Picture perfect, feels like you're the only person there."

"You don't conduct blood sacrifices there, do you?"

"Not anymore – and especially not with guests."

Danny's face lights up like a Christmas tree. "Alright, I'll go. I uh, don't exactly have a tent or anything."

"Mine's big enough for two. Even has a wall so we have our own separate spaces. You know, if you want privacy."

Danny stands up and takes his plate over to the sink, scooping up Steve's along the way. "I think after all the shit we've been through – and last night – it wouldn't serve us a ton of purpose anyway."

Steve has to keep his excitement under tight control because this – this is exactly the chance he's been searching for. Sure Danny's stuck with him in the mountains if he says no but hell, they'll manage. It's better than not at all.

"Think so?" Steve gets up too, and leans against the table.

"Yeah." Danny turns around, taking a half step back once he's sees that Steve's standing. "Didn't have to get up for me, I'm not the queen of England."

Steve draws himself to full height, hovering just outside of Danny's personal space. "Have to go get packed up anyway. Want me to take you home so you can grab what you need?"

Danny doesn't answer for a second, just studying Steve with a soft, fond look in his eyes. "Sure. Kinda need boots, water, that sort of thing."

"I'll get my keys." Steve walks towards the stairs, intent upon putting on some underwear before he goes anywhere. He tries to keep the bounce out of his step but what the hell – Danny definitely knows what's up now. It's just a matter of when.

He swears he can almost feel Danny's smile on the back of his neck.

An hour later, they're heading due east of Honolulu, climbing the mountain at a rate that Danny would call "are you out of your mind" fast. Steve takes the turns entirely too fast, skidding the tires of his Silverado and then jerking them back into their lane before disaster strikes.

Danny's clutching to his backpack like a life preserver.

"What in the hell are you trying to do, Steven? Pretty sure the mountain's not actually going anywhere and if it does, we can always tow it back."

Steve chuckles, downshifting as he rounds a bend and then mashing the accelerator, causing them to lurch forward. "Just fasten your seat belt a little tighter."

Danny looks over at Steve, his own seatbelt so tight across his chest that it's caused his shirt to ride up and Steve's sleeves are flashing all sorts of tattoos and biceps. "It's as tight as it's gonna go. There's a lot less of me to hold in place and I don't exert my own gravitational pull, Mr. Shoulders and Upper Body of Hercules."

"You think I look like Hercules?"

"No, but you probably smell like him after cleaning out the Augean stables."

"Speaking of – did you bring soap?" Steve knows their close to the parking area for the campground; he hasn't told Danny yet that his spot is actually outside of the legal area, secluded in the jungle.

And it's a six mile hike.

"What? No, I didn't bring soap – where the hell are we gonna bathe? You have a shower in a tree or something?"

"Even better – a creek. Pure spring water, right down from the mountains. So fresh you can drink it."

"I am not drinking after any water you've been naked in. I don't want to catch whatever it is that makes you… you."

Steve's ignoring him, instead thinking about Danny catching him bare as can be – and that water barely comes up to his waist.

"I think it'd be an improvement if you did."

"Yeah, because the world needs two Steve McGarretts running around. I'd have to grow another foot and put on what, a ton of muscle? Is that how much you weigh?"

"225, Danno."

"Alright so another… fifty pounds. That's still a lot."

"And you'd look ridiculous with shoulders like mine." Steve glances at Danny out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, you have a pretty nice body anyway. I've seen you run and tackle perps before, and they went down without that much of a fight."

"That would be because I know how to use what I have – and wrestling."

"You wrestled?"

"For years – all the way up to my junior year of college. That's when I blew out my knee. Took me out of baseball too. Oh, and – you think my body's nice?"

Steve gives a noncommittal shrug. "I mean, that's something I like to have on my team, you know? Guys who can go hard for a long time, stay in shape. It's a good asset to have."

"That doesn't mean a lot coming from someone who was probably born with shoulders like battering rams." Danny's flush with praise all the same; Steve can see him smiling in the mirror.

"I had to work for it, trust me. They don't let little guys into the SEALS – no offense, just…"

"I know what you mean. That's why I didn't go into the Army. Couldn't carry a bazooka when you're just under five and a half feet tall. Sure it sucks but hey, at least I won't have to worry about getting blown up in a warzone, right?"

"You could get blown up here." Steve almost winks but that… that might be a little_ too_ much.

"At least I'd go out in style. What better place to die than in paradise, am I right?"

"Did you just call this 'paradise?' What, is the island life finally starting to rub off on you?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort. Just... I have eyes, and it's a hell of a lot prettier than Jersey. I'll admit that much." Danny looks out the window, green mountains rolling by all around them and yeah, it's gorgeous.

"Glad you're finally falling under the spell. It's why I couldn't leave if I wanted to."

"You're a home boy, aren't you Steven?"

Steve nods. "Wouldn't give up the house if someone had me at gunpoint."

"So you _do_ understand what sentimentality feels like." Danny pokes him in the arm with his index finger on the word "do" and digs in hard before taking his hand away.

"Hey, that hurts!"

"Wuss."

"Oh, name calling? What are you, five?"

"And a half feet tall, yes."

Steve tries to glare at him but ends up trying to keep the smile off his face. "I hate you."

"Then why are we going camping together?"

"Because it's nice, and you need to do it at least once."

Danny doesn't say anything, just drums his fingers on his knee and stares out the window. Quietly, he says: "there's a lot of stuff I want to try at least once."

Steve holds his breath, waiting for a follow up. When none is forthcoming – "like what?"

"Just… stuff. Tell you what, I'll share around the campfire. Give us something to do later, huh?"

"Campfires are illegal up here."

"Fine – around the lamp, then." Danny mumbles about not getting to have smores and how he brought chocolate _and_ marshmallows and Steve doesn't even have the decency to pick a spot for a fire.

Steve just shakes his head and lets him complain; they're almost there anyway. He's already starting to get goosebumps, traveling back in time to when he first came out here on his own. He was twenty three, fresh out of the Naval Academy and he wanted one last breath of fresh air before he was sent off to SEAL training. It had been peaceful and beautiful then, and not a thing has changed in the last decade or so.

Danny gets out first, craning his neck up to view his surroundings. "Alright, this isn't terrible to look. Not at all."

Steve joins him, having hung his permit to be here on the rearview mirror. "Just wait until you're more up close to it. It's even more impressive then." He's standing so close to Danny he can feel his body heat on the exposed skin of his arms. He wants to reach out and touch, to explore every inch of flesh but no – not yet.

"Speak of – where are we heading?"

Steve points with his right arm. "That way. About six miles southeast."

Danny whirls around, nearly bumping into Steve. "Six – six fucking miles? We aren't establishing a colony in the mountains, Steven, just camping for a couple days."

"Well, you have to work for the good spots." Steve picks up Danny's pack from the ground and hands it to him. "What are you waiting for?"

Danny shoulders his pack and looks up at the sky. "Helicopter. Seems a lot more efficient of a way to get there to me."

Steve reaches out and pulls Danny's wrist. "C'mon."

"Hey, hands off the upholstery there tiger – reflexes might kick in and then I'll have to prove that I can indeed put you flat on your back."

It's a good thing Danny's behind him, because the smile that crinkles his eyes is positively obscene.

Steve does find the one thing that'll make Danny be quiet – hiking. He hears him huffing and puffing behind him, but everything else is silent. Occasionally they can walk alongside each other, bumping hands and shoulders when the gap closes in too much. Steve thrills at every little touch, not another soul in sight save for them. It'd be so easy to just grab Danny's hand, link their fingers together and say to hell with it. Make his intentions crystal clear – their grown ass men, and the worst the other can do is say no.

Well, Steve wouldn't say no, so really it's on Danny.

About three miles and two hours in (they've set a good pace, and even then it's still slow going) they come to a stream, too long to find a way around but too wide to just step across.

Steve stops, taking a bandana out of his pocket and wiping his brow. He's regretting not wearing a tank top on the way up but the less skin exposed, the better. Danny comes up beside him, staring at the creek and rubbing his bum knee.

"Well, build us a raft Lewis." Danny works off a boot and leans against Steve while he dumps a couple small rocks out.

Steve gauges the gap as best he can; he can jump it without too much trouble. Getting Danny across, however, is going to be a challenge. On top of that, the water's moving just fast enough to be a cause for concern should one of them fall in.

"We need a bridge, not a raft."

"Alright then, Lieutenant Colonel Nicholson – build us a bridge."

Steve turns to look at Danny, befuddlement clear on his face. "Who?"

Danny covers his face with his hands and shakes his head, his exasperation nearing theatrical levels. "You're kidding, right? You've never seen _Bridge on The River Kwai_? Out of all the movies in the world, that's the one I would have thought you knew by heart." Danny reaches up and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You, my friend, when we get back are going to watch _Bridge On The River Kwai _and I swear to God if you fall asleep during it, I will put spiders in your bed."

Steve gives him _that_ look, that quick up turn of his lips and his eyebrows raising. "It's a date."

Too on the nose? Steve doesn't think so. If anything, it makes him feel a little bit better. Sure he's still screwing his courage up but… baby steps.

Danny just glares at him with a mixture of bemusement and that patented "I can't believe you" look – which, Steve's noticed, is only ever turned on him.

"Alright – I'm gonna jump. I'm pretty sure I can pull you across if you reach out as far as you can." Before Danny has the chance to protest, Steve's already in position to spring and a second later, he's on the other bank, windmilling slightly to catch his balance. He takes his pack off and sets it down, then plants himself as firmly as he can so as to be ready for Danny.

"You can throw your pack first, if it'll make it easier," Steve calls. A second later, Danny's pack is launched at him at full speed, the attempt at knocking the wind out of him obvious.

"I swear," Danny threatens, "if you drop me in the water you're going down with me." Danny winces as his knee threatens to ache, and then he's jumping, Steve's outstretched hand snatching him from the air. They end up switching positions, Danny being spun around towards firm ground as Steve pivots so his back is facing the stream. Danny lands on dry earth, looking only slightly terrified.

"Didn't drop you Danno," Steve says, looking pleased as can be.

"Yeah, yeah." They're still face to face, a bare inch between their bodies. Danny's hand is still in his, pressed against Steve's chest where he'd pulled Danny in towards his body. Steve's thumb moves a fraction of an inch, Danny's fingers still clutched tightly in his. Time stops, almost completely, before Danny gently shatters the moment.

"Uh… can I…" He uses his eyes to indicate to where Steve's still holding on to him.

For just a second, Steve has to think about what he's talking about. Danny's not that short right now, standing on slightly higher ground that Steve. His hand is rough at the fingertips, especially on his trigger finger and thumb but his palm is soft – and Steve kind of doesn't want to let go.

"Steven?"

"Hm?"

"Want to let go of me now? My knee just aches, I'm not…"

"Yeah." Steve lets him go, and he swears Danny leans forward just a little, like he's trying to get even closer but pulls away, shouldering his pack.

Danny turns away, facing in roughly the direction they need to keep traveling in. "How much farther, anyway?"

"We're halfway there. C'mon, we can get there by sundown." Steve starts to press forward again, his hand feeling achingly empty.

Danny doesn't walk beside him the rest of the way there.

They reach Steve's secret campground right as the sun's setting, casting the mountainsides in a dazzling array of purples and oranges that make the green somehow more verdant; there's not a sight on Earth, to Steve anyway, more beautiful than this. It's still just as moving now as it was years ago, and Steve stands quietly, his pack on the ground at his feet.

Danny had gone off somewhere in the trees behind him to relieve himself, and he's quiet as he takes his place back at Steve's side. "Not even sunset at the end of the Boardwalk in Atlantic city looks that good."

Steve nods; he's never been to Atlantic City, but he believes Danny all the same. "This is why."

"Why what?"

"Why I do what I do. To protect this. My family, my home – all of it." Steve's voice is barely a whisper, each word having to be dredged up. "I've been asked before and I just… I tell them to climb the mountain and watch the sunset." Steve turns to Danny, an expression of reverence and contentment softening his features. "I challenge you to find anything more beautiful than that – you won't, I guarantee it."

The backdrop of the sun right behind him makes it a little difficult to see Steve's face, so Danny takes half a step towards him. "Pretty sure Grace's college graduation and wedding are gonna have that top spot locked up – but that's an awfully close number two." Danny points at the sky behind Steve, his eyes still on Steve's face.

"You know, if we're still partners then, I'd kind of like to go to at least one of those – just to see if your ridiculous claim is true."

"Oh, so now you're calling my daughter ridiculous? That's low, Steven."

Steve follows as Danny starts to unpack his bag. "I didn't mean it like that – Grace is a cute kid. Lucky for her the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

Danny pauses, then turns back to look at Steve. "Yeah Rachel's a monster but she's a gorgeous one. Kind of like that lady with the snake hair – Medusa."

Steve wets his lips and looks at the ground – now is the time. Well, he's still scared as hell – he's just slightly less so now than before. "I wasn't talking about Rachel."

Danny stands up, placing his hands on his hips. The sunset makes his cheeks even more pink than normal, his lips slightly parted as he takes a breath. "What do you mean?"

"I meant you, Danno. She definitely gets her looks from you."

Danny smiles, kind of sheepishly. "Nah, nah you uh, you've got that wrong. I'm… I'm a little rough around the edges you know, not like Grace or Rachel. Hell, she's already broken a few hearts."

Steve's moved closer, his heart thundering in his ears because this isn't going nearly as well as he thought it would – Danny's still trying to put up a fight. "Where'd she learn that, anyway?"

Danny doesn't really have a ready answer – Steve's close proximity is making it incredibly hard to focus on making anything witty come out of his mouth. "Uh…"

"That's a really good answer, babe, very clear." Steve only has to whisper, he's so close to Danny.

"Hey Steven?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm about to do something that if you want to punch me in the mouth for, then fine – but I really don't think that's gonna happen." Danny's hands are sliding up Steve's neck already, electricity crackling in their wake. Steve feels like he weighs a pound right now, and the only thing tying him to the dirt beneath his feet is Danny.

"I swear I'm not gonna do that." The last two words are uttered against Danny's lips, dying away as that last barrier is broken. Danny's trembling a little, and Steve's hands go straight away to hold his face. He rubs his thumbs over Danny's temples, trying to remember how he imagined what Danny's lips would feel like against his – and there's not a single imagined thing that come remotely close. If Steve had to pick a word for what they felt like, it would be _alive_. Danny's fairly bursting with energy all the time and it just radiates from him, never failing – and it's overpowering to the point of making Steve's knees shake.

Steve didn't figure that the moment would be upstaged by a root, but when he goes to shift his foot he slides forward, nearly knocking Danny down and breaking the kiss. Danny catches him before he can topple to the ground, holding Steve's hands and grinning.

"See, aren't you glad we crossed the creek earlier? Already got practice in for this." Steve can't keep the elation out of his voice and he makes sure the ground he's standing on when he straightens is root free.

"Well, I'm not super happy about you nearly breaking a rib with your enormous head but since you're cute I'll let it slip just this once."

"Cute?"  
"For a caveman, yeah." Danny's still shaking and Steve tugs them down to the ground, pulling Danny in close once they're settled.

"Danny, you… you don't have to be scared. Trust me, whatever you're feeling right now – it's fully requited, I promise." Steve wants to kiss Danny again, now that they're relatively free of interruptions.

"That's not what I'm concerned about – I am a detective you know, I can tell when someone's been undressing me in their mind – and you, Steven, have got it bad." Danny's mockingly smug tone makes Steve push him backwards onto the ground, pinning Danny's hands above his head.

"And you didn't say anything? Danny, that's mean. I've been beating myself up for weeks over this – what were you waiting for?"

Danny doesn't say anything right away; while Steve was talking, he'd wrapped his legs around Steve's and shifted his weight lower. In a split second, Steve's on his back and Danny's between his legs, growling "spread 'em, McGarrett."

It even surprises Steve how fast he complies.

"To answer your question, Steven – I wanted to make 100% sure that we were both on the same level. I figured it out a couple weeks ago that yeah, we both wanted in each other's pants. It just didn't feel like the right time until now. After last night, I was convinced." Danny's got his hands on Steve's shoulders, caressing them like he's trying his hardest to keep himself from tearing his shirt from his body.

Steve starts to go for another kiss, intent upon giving Danny the best tongue he can – only to have Danny stop him before he gets too terribly far. "One more thing – I am not in this for just the sex, Steve. If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do everything. Dates, hand holding, and if you're willing to fulfill at least one fantasy in your lifetime, you'll let me watch while you use that dildo on yourself."

Steve turns a deep shade of scarlet and tries to avoid Danny's gaze. "You uh… heard that?"

"Yeah, I did – and fucking hell Steve, you go _hard_." Danny rocks gently against Steve's body, pleased to find that he's most definitely got his full attention. "Thing is, I didn't peg you for being so… loud with something up your ass."

"I like bottoming. Nothing wrong with that."

"What, you have some sort of power transference kink? Cause if so…" Danny leans down further, doing his best to keep Steve pressed as far into the earth as he can.

"Then I fully expect you to fulfill that. Right now though…" Steve tries to pull Danny in for that second kiss again but still, Danny resists.

"You still haven't answered my question, babe." It feels really, really great to use the endearment and have it not be just them going back and forth at each other.

Steve gets that bewildered look again, only for it to disappear a moment later. "Oh, yeah – I'm in Danny, I promise. Kind of haven't had eyes for anyone else for a long while now."

"_Now_ you get a kiss." Danny closes in without rushing, knowing he's got Steve here for as long as he wants him. Sure they should probably set up the tent and other essentials before it gets too dark terribly but it's a full moon tonight; they'll be just fine.

Right as Danny's lips brush against his own, Steve murmurs "can I tell you something?"

"Anything, babe, I'm all ears."

"I love to have my tongue sucked. Just in case you wanted a head start on… you know." Steve wiggles his hips against Danny's and they both groan from the friction against their skin.

"Can do." Steve doesn't need a lot of encouragement from Danny to open his mouth and two seconds later he's got Danny's tongue in his mouth.

It's a little like dying, because the ache of waiting for and wanting release is finally starting to lift, not another single thing in the world mattering for a few seconds aside from moving his body down a little lower so that Steve's more nose to nose with Danny. Danny pours every ounce of conviction he can muster into Frenching Steve, pulling back just a little so that he has to stick his tongue out. Danny traces a quick circle around the tip with his own, already starting to commit Steve's taste to memory. He pulls him in, sucking on his lip first and then his tongue; it's exactly what Steve wants, and right now Danny's getting it better than anyone else ever has.

No, Danny doesn't have to worry about this being anything else other than rock solid.

When Steve finally breaks the kiss because he's expended all the oxygen in his lungs (and because it's now dark,) he leans his head back into the soft grass, laughing.

Danny decides now is as good a time as any to see what Steve's hair feels like and as he's sliding all ten fingers into those dark locks, he asks "want to share what's so funny with the class?"

Steve turns his head to kiss the inside of Danny's left wrist. "It's nothing you did, babe – it's just that you're an even better kisser than I had imagined you to be."

"So I did the tongue thing right?"

Steve decides to show rather than tell. He takes Danny's left hand and places it on his cock, pointed down his left leg and so fucking hard that if it had been daylight, Danny could probably see the outline of the head.

"How's that for proof."

"I think that's a knight stick and not your dick." Danny shuffles back a little, trying to see between them. "Here's an idea – why don't we set up the tent and do this like civilized people, so we don't have to worry about bugs and dirt in places they shouldn't be, huh?"

The look of defeat that Steve gives him is enough to make Danny's heart strings twang.

"I swear if you don't have me naked within ten seconds of it going up…" Steve didn't have a punishment ready, so he allows Danny's imagination to work out the rest.

"You just watch, babe – I'll have you out of your kit within five."

There's surprisingly little "distracting" each other as they finish setting up camp; the mutual goal of getting each other naked is an extremely powerful motivator. Sure they sneak a kiss or two when they meet in the middle to put up tent poles but that's the only contact shared until they've finished rolling out the sleeping bags and even then, they don't go for each other.

Steve keeps stealing glances at Danny, hoping every time that Danny will catch him. His nervousness is almost entirely replaced by eagerness now, the desire to touch and explore and memorize every square inch of Danny's body positively overwhelming. Danny's quiet now, absorbed in his task – but anticipating what's about to happen just as much as Steve.

The sleeping bags are barely rolled out on the tent floor before Danny's pulling Steve by the front of his shirt through the fly, leaving it unzipped behind them; neither of them are terribly concerned about being discovered and if they are… well, there isn't a ton of shame to be had between the two of them.

Steve grunts as he's led down to the floor, Danny kneeling between his spread legs and looking like he's mystified as to what to do next.

"So – I had a plan up until this point and now it's kind of gone like Colonel Nicholson's bridge." Danny's hands are resting on Steve's thighs, so Steve reaches for them and threads their fingers together.

"Danny, you can touch me wherever you want. Hell, stick your fingers in my mouth if you want to, just fucking _touch me_." Steve hooks his heels in the small of Danny's back and pulls him forward.

"Bossy son of a bitch, aren't you?" Danny smiles and scritches Steve's head, making Steve utter what sounds an awful lot like a purr.

"How about we just start by getting naked?" Steve kisses Danny's chin and buries his face in his neck, taking in some more of Danny's old leather musk.

"We can do that." Danny sits back and starts to pull his shirt off, only to pause a moment later.

"What's wrong, babe?" Steve sits up on his elbows, trying to study Danny's face in the moonlight.

"Uh… I don't know what kind of guys you like body wise but… just understand I'm not nearly as much of a gym rat as you."

Danny's tone is so bashful that Steve's heart breaks a little and before he knows it he's sitting up and encircling Danny with his arms.

"Look – that couldn't fucking matter one less bit to me, Danno. Seriously. I kinda did the whole going head over heels thing with you looking like you do now so I don't really think you have much to worry about, alright?" Steve kisses him deep as soon as the last word is out of his mouth. Danny relaxed considerably, putting his hands under Steve's shirt and dragging his fingernails up his ribcage. Steve shudders, feeling like his spine just turned to liquid and he goes down easy, pulling Danny on top of him.

Danny breaks the kiss, just long enough to murmur "you like that, huh?"

Steve nods, tugging at the hem of Danny's shirt. "Off."

"Pushy." Danny sits up and strips quick, and Steve's hands are on his body before he's even got it all the way off. The look of marvel in his eyes is extremely touching, and now Danny shivers as Steve's fingers follow the dips and contours of his torso.

"I didn't know you had a hairy chest." Steve strokes through the soft, dark blonde hair, gently over each nipple before moving lower to his stomach. "And abs, too. Danny, I don't know what you were worried about."

"Eh, I do a couple sit ups every morning." Even in the low light his smile is unmistakable. "But – it's not fair for me to be the only one with any clothes off. Not that seeing you shirtless is that much of a surprise, since you flaunt it every chance you get."

Steve chuckles and sits up to remove it. "If it makes you feel any better, you're the only one I'm trying to impress at this point."

As Danny starts to drop butterfly kisses over Steve's chest, he says "looks like it turned out pretty well for you."

Steve pulls Danny in for another kiss. "Better than well."

They lose another five minutes making out, every second of it spent with Danny sucking on Steve's tongue. At this point, Steve feels nearly liquefied, ready for Danny to pour him into whatever mold or shape he sees fit. It's not often that he's complete putty in _anyone's_ hands – Danny gets carte blanche though, his body an open book for him to explore at his leisure.

Steve breaks the kiss, just enough to draw some breath. "Before we get to the good stuff – which, judging by what I feel pressed against my stomach right now is _really_ good – I want to get a light. I want to see all of you, Danno." He draws a long line down Danny's spine, then twice as slow back up.

"If you think doing that is going to get me off of you any faster, then you are very, very wrong." Danny nips at Steve's collarbones, just as beautifully defined as the rest of him.

"Fair point." Steve slides Danny off of him, then reaches for his backpack, propped in the far corner of the tent. Steve's becoming more and more glad that he decided to buy the four man tent, plenty of room for he and Danny and all of their supplies. He fishes around in the middle pocket, Danny joining him after a moment and pressing up against his back.

"Ten bucks says you have an emergency field surgery kit in there."

When Steve holds up a big, navy blue case on it with a large red cross emblazoned on the front, Danny kind of wishes he hadn't said anything.

"Just find the light, you ass."

"At least I'm a cute ass."

Danny squeezes Steve's butt as best he can. "You won't get any argument from me there."

After another minute of searching (and Danny being completely unhelpful by touching his chest and nipples) Steve finds the light, flicking it on before he's even got it completely out of his pack. It floods the tent with blueish white light, illuminating Danny to the point where Steve can see him quite well.

"There you are," Steve says, smiling as Danny starts to unbutton his shorts.

"Yeah, like I'm gonna go anywhere. Ass up, Commander." Steve raises his lower body up as Danny hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and shorts, pulling the whole shooting match down to Steve's still boot clad feet. Danny's jaw drops when Steve's cock smacks against his stomach, snapping back once pulled free of his underwear.

"You know Steven, most guys have a dick between their legs – not a goddamn Howitzer." Danny's not exactly hesitant in taking Steve in hand though, jerking him smoothly with his right hand and making watching the precome bead at the tip as he squeezes.

Steve paws at Danny's crotch, eager to see his partner naked too. "And this is exactly why I don't top guys, either – not a one of them has been able to handle it. Lucky for me, again, I like to bottom. Come on Danno, let's see what you're packing." Steve's already leaning forward to unbuckle Danny's belt.

"Not a WMD, that's for sure." Danny keeps his hands to himself while Steve finishes undressing him. It's difficult but hell, they're both over eager to get at each other.

"Holy _shit_." Steve sits back to take in Danny a little more fully, holding his cock in his left hand and looking very much like a kid at Christmas.

"See something you like McGarrett?" Danny reaches out and grabs Steve's cock, stroking him just hard enough to make Steve moan a little in the back of his throat.

"Again, not at all what I had… fuck." Danny's uncut (unlike Steve) and thick, definitely thicker than Steve's dildo at home and just long enough to where Steve knows he'll be hitting his sweet spot no matter what – and then there's the curve. It's just perceptible enough to where Steve knows from experience it'll follow the natural angle of his body, best of all on his back.

Steve finds himself wanting to say thank you to the sky again.

"See, this is why I don't expect things – I like to be surprised." Danny pushes Steve down to the sleeping bag, still working his dick. "We'll talk about that later though, right now I want to make you come."

Steve grabs the back of Danny's head and crashes their lips together. "Don't think you're gonna have to work that hard for it, babe."

Steve can tell right away that Danny's not had a ton of experience with guys – he's jerking Steve off like he's jerking himself – but that's alright. Steve's more than glad to show him what to do and it doesn't require that much outspoken communication for Danny to pick up on it quick.

"You'll tell me if I do anything wrong, right?" Danny's got his forehead against Steve's, their free hands linked next to Steve's head.

Steve tips his mouth up, kissing Danny for the umpteenth time in the last fifteen minutes. "Don't really think you can, babe – jerking it works for pretty much every guy."

Danny smiles against Steve's mouth and grips him a little tighter. "Do have one question though."

"Shoot, babe."

"Do you always precome this much?"  
Steve nods. "Especially with the right person."

Danny returns that grin ten fold. "Can I taste it?"

Given the way Steve moans at the mere _suggestion, _Danny guesses yes. He regrets taking his hand away but he figures that the sight of him licking Steve's precome off of his fingers will more than make up for it – and he's right.

Steve watches in fascination as Danny licks his middle three fingers clean, making sure he gets a really good eyeful of his tongue curling and dipping around and in between each digit. Steve joins him, taking his hand off of Danny's dick and doing the same, trading back and forth until they're kissing each other again and tasting each other so strongly that Steve moves closer to orgasm that much quicker.

"Danno, I'm close, fuck," he whispers, his eyes screwed shut as Danny finally finds the perfect rhythm.

"Yeah, me too babe – want you to come with me." Steve's stroking right near the head, his foreskin moving so fast that Steve's fingers are nearly a blur.

"Want you to come all over me." Steve pushes Danny back so that his body's an open target, both of them doused in sweat, making fantastic shadows on the tent wall.

"Shit, Steve-" and then that's all Danny gets out. He doesn't have time to tell Steve that he comes not only a lot but also really far, and Steve ends up with a face full of spunk before he even knows what's happening. Steve's mouth is already open, now trying to catch every last drop as Danny expends himself. He has to keep his eyes shut, feeling instead of seeing his own climax as he shoots up to his chest – and making it hard to tell where Danny's come ends and his begins.

Danny looks down at his partner's sticky body, smiling in apology. "Before you ask – yes, I come like that every time."

Steve's licking his lips and using his fingers to get what he can off his face, shoving as much as he can into his mouth. Danny just sits back and watches in awe as Steve McGarrett, super scary ex-Navy Seal and leader of Hawaii's most efficient and powerful special task force, eats come off of his face like it's glaze off of a donut.

"I hate to interrupt but uh…"

Steve smiles around his index finger. "I like come, babe. The taste, the idea – all of it. And Danno, yours tastes _awesome._"

Danny can't quite get himself to actually say anything, still watching Steve like he's seen something so bizarre he can't believe it – even though it's right in front of him.

"C'mere" – Danno's pulled forward, squirming when he realizes his torso is now wet with commingled semen – but stilling once Steve pushes his tongue into his mouth, their different tastes so striking in contrast that he starts to get hard again. Steve circles his tongue with his own, coating every inch. Danny seems a little hesitant at first but Steve's enthusiasm wins him over; soon enough, Danny's pushing back just as hard against Steve's mouth as Steve is against his.

Ignoring the spunk on his body – and taking into account the fact that Danny's probably had enough – Steve breaks the kiss to breathe, his nostrils filled with the smell of come and sweat. Danny's still on top of him, a little sleepy eyed but looking so beautifully sated that Steve really can't bring himself to ask him to move.

"So let me ask – was that on that list of things you wanted to try?" Steve combs his fingers through Danny's hair and returns his half-hooded eye gaze.

"Well… sort of. It was more direct as to how the come actually got there but that was pretty damned close. I gotta ask though – where'd the whole fascination with baby batter come from?"

Steve gets a look of pure nostalgia in his eyes. "Curiosity. One day when I was, fourteen? Yeah. I just… tasted my own and have pretty much every time I've blown a load since then. Makes clean up a hell of a lot easier too."

"Your football or Navy buddies ever find out?"

"Football – definitely. A couple of friends and I well… we practiced on each other. Learned how to give head before I ever made it with a girl." Steve can tell Danny's turned on, lurid and filthy details or not.

"They ever come on you like that?" Danny sounds like he's out of breath and hell if that tone doesn't make Steve's skin prickle with desire.

"Yeah. Fuck, Danno, that's why I tried so hard to get abs when I was younger. Loved it when my buddies came on me and licked it off." Steve grabs Danny's cock again, rolling his foreskin between his fingers and making Danny cry out from oversensitivity.

"Keep talking Steve." Danny shifts around, laying down next to Steve and jerking him off. "Tell me about what you did while I jerk off your big fuckin' cock."

Steve takes Danny's free arm and puts it around his shoulders, drawing them close. "Used to sneak off after practice, barely showered off and still high off of adrenaline. We'd come back to my place since it had the most room, get naked in my bedroom. All three of us right the bed, legs thrown over each other." Steve swallows, his throat dry with lust, lending it a sandpapery, deep quality. "I'd be in the middle, always so they'd come on me."

"What were their names?" Danny starts to massage Steve's balls, loose and heavy, rolling them between his fingers and tugging just hard enough to make Steve's breath hitch.

"Fuck, Danny – Bryan and Jamie. Both tall, built, and so fucking hot. Both of them shot a lot too, loved to see who could paint me the most. Bryan always won, just by a little, but Jamie's come tasted so much sweeter. We did that all through high school, almost never missed a week."

Danny's back arches, Steve playing with his foreskin to the point of it being painful – but he's close again. "Don't stop now, babe, please."

Steve has to bite his tongue to stave off his orgasm, ready to come again just from talking about it. "Remember the first time they came in my mouth at the same time – I didn't even have to touch myself, y'know? Was so fucking hot from that I shot all by myself, didn't need a hand. Still beat off to that Danno, it was that good."

Danny nods, biting Steve's bicep as he comes again, just a few drops after blowing so hard earlier but the sensations are overpowering, and Steve's not far behind, dripping over Danny's knuckles. Before Steve can lick them off, Danny takes care of both of them, feeding it back to Steve and finally collapsing in a sweaty pile.

"Swear to God," Danny mutters after a few minutes of mutual breath catching "I am never asking about your past again because one, not only is it filthy to the point of beauty but two, I'm kind of jealous. I never… fuck, Steve, I don't even know what to say."

Steve rolls onto his side and wraps his arms around Danny's sweat and come damp body, smiling into a kiss. "I can promise you that ever since you set foot on the island, you've caused your fair share of orgasms without even knowing it."

"Yeah?" Danny opens his eyes and puts his hand over Steve's heart.

"Yeah – and you're the only one I want doing it. I'm not that kind of guy, Danno, I promise."

Danny kisses Steve's shoulder and gets his limbs around him as best he can. "I didn't think so, honestly. Terrifying as you are, you probably can't keep more than one lucky bastard at a time."

Steve groans. "Do you ever stop? Is this what you're like after sex – mouthy and insulting?"

"Can't recall being anything else."

"It's a really good thing you're a necessary asset to this team, Danno."

"Awww – thank you Steven."

Steve rolls over for a kiss that lasts until sleep pulls them into its comfortingly dark embrace.

Morning brings the gentle patter of rainfall on the tent's roof, waking Steve in the most delightfully gradual way.

He opens his eyes slowly, noticing that the right side of his body remains as cool as the air seeping in – but his left is warm, sticky with sleep sweat and the lingering scent of sex. Steve raises his head, not getting far once he realizes Danny's pillowed on his chest, both arms around his upper body and snoring softly.

Steve can't bring himself to resist the temptation of kissing the top of Danny's head very, very softly.

He remembers them falling asleep right next to each other, too hot and sleepy to remain touching each other. Steve hadn't even noticed when Danny rolled over and laid himself on his chest but given the way he's sleeping so soundly, it must have been quite some time ago. Steve noticed his arm is around Danny's shoulders, guessing that Danny put it there once he'd settled himself – the thought itself is so sweet that Steve finds himself smiling.

Danny mumbles in his sleep, tightening his hold on Steve a little and ending up moving closer to his neck. Steve has to lay his head back, just far enough to be uncomfortable. He tries to shift but doesn't want to jostle Danny too much, so he settles for easing Danny just an inch back down. Danny grunts, apparently having been moved enough to wake.

"I was enjoying that, Commander" – Steve's voice is rough from disuse but the mock displeasure from being awakened is clear.

"And I wanted to see your smiling face." Steve picks Danny up and places him on his stomach, nose to nose and ignoring each other's morning breath.

"What on earth makes you think I wanted to be moved – a soft sleeping bag you are not." Danny's buried his face in Steve's neck. "And you smell."

"Gee, thanks." Steve runs his fingers down Danny's naked back, eyes closed again and peppering Danny's temple and the side of his head with kisses. "Oh –is this okay?"

"What, cuddling?" Danny leaves out the _are you serious_ at the end of that particular question. "Yeah, of course. I mean, I wouldn't have pegged you for the cuddly type but no, I'm cool with it. More than, cool actually." Danny picks his head up and kisses Steve on the mouth. "Short of you know, tying me up or whatever you don't really have to ask."

"I just didn't know what level of intimacy you're comfortable with, is all." Steve sounds so genuinely innocent that Danny has to kiss him again. This time there's tongue, and it's a little while before they draw away from each other.

"Steve, I want to be intimate with you, alright? That's not something you ever have to worry about with me. Not gonna lie when I tell you it sucks waking up alone and all that shit."

Steve nods. "I know. I'm okay with uh, you spending every night over if you want. Because yeah, it sucks waking up alone. Especially in a big house like that."

"It's kind of weird, talking about this stuff – especially with you. Just… you're… you and…" Danny shrugs, a motion made slightly more difficult than normal since he has his arms around Steve's neck.

"I have feelings and shit just like every other person on the planet, Danno. I'm not anti-social, just… in my line of work it's easier to not get people involved unless they completely understand what they're getting into." Steve kisses Danny's bicep before he continues. "It's tough – back in the Navy, most everyone else had someone to go home to when they stepped off the boat. Wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, whatever – and I didn't. There was my dad, and that was really it." Steve gets quieter, refusing to let the thought of _and now he's not here_ _anymore_ linger – it's not going to get him anywhere.

Danny shifts his weight, gently stroking Steve's face while he listens. "So I'm the lucky guy who gets to fill your void of loneliness and despair? Man oh man, I'm lucky, aren't I?"

Steve rolls his eyes and gives a long suffering sigh. "I couldn't be more serious here, Danno – you get it."

Danny kisses Steve on the chin and scritches his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I do. And I'm glad you picked me."

Steve smiles and goes for Danny's mouth again, this time opening his lips and moaning quietly as Danny spells out love letters with his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

By the time they break apart again, Steve's skin is prickly with arousal, and Danny's thigh is keeping his legs spread in such a manner that it'd be very, very easy to rub off against him. Danny's basking in that lazy warmth too, kissing and nipping at Steve's neck and jaw.

"Hey, Danno?"

"You want to go again?" Steve rolls his hips just in case Danny has yet to pick up on what exactly it is he means.

Danny groans, friction radiating like a supernova over the lower half of his body.

"See, that's a complicated answer. I want to do something very specific to you but at the same time, I'm not a fan of the whole man stink thing we've got going on right now. So yes, I want to – but I want to get cleaned up first."

"We're just gonna get dirty again, so what's the point?"

Danny takes Steve's hands and pins them above his head, delighting in the way Steve's face lights up – the boy fucking loves to be held down and Danny plans to explore that as much as he can in the coming weeks. "It's a self-conscious thing, alright? So grab your super healthy nature soap or whatever and get your ass up so I can watch it while you find this secret spring of yours or whatever."

The small "yes, sir" that Steve utters is so quiet that Danny nearly misses it – and he's only a couple inches away from Steve's face to begin with. Still, Danny doesn't act on it, just lets Steve up so that he can get to his pack. He hungrily takes in the gorgeous curve of his muscled body, the way Steve's biceps bunch and retract as he rummages and searches – in the daylight, Steve's even more unfairly hot.

Danny comforts himself with the fact that soon enough, he'll know every single inch of that gorgeous body.

Steve holds up the soap like a trophy. "Found it." He grabs Danny's hand and hauls him out of the tent, completely ignoring the steady drizzle falling from the sky and Danny's protestations of his arm nearly being pulled out of his socket.

The spring isn't in the least bit hard to find, sunk into a clump of trees at most a couple hundred feet from their campground. Steve sees Danny looking around warily – like he's expecting some grisly bit of island wildlife to come out of the trees and end both their lives.

"If you're looking for snakes, Danno, there aren't any here. Just me, you, and water that stays sixty five degrees in temperature year round.

Danny gives both Steve and the spring a dubious look. "I don't believe you, on either count."

Steve lets go of Danny's hand and drops in to the spring, slipping beneath its crystal clear surface for a moment before rolling onto his back and floating, impressive hard on sticking up out of the water like an invitation. "See? Nothing to worry about."

"I hate you." Danny joins him, nowhere near as enthusiastic about the cold water as his partner. He curses under his breath as he sinks to his shoulders, kicking up a cloud of mud underneath him as he tests his spur of the moment theory that this is a bottomless pit and Steve McGarrett is actually a water nymph put on this earth just to make life difficult for him.

Steve swims over, cleaving the water with strokes of his arms so smooth that he doesn't even leave a wake behind him. He hugs Danny tight and puts his legs around his waist, letting it sink in that yes indeed, Danny's holding him up with close to zero effort. "It's not actually that cold – your body just isn't used to the temperature."

"Because normal people bathe in hot water and not bits of arctic tundra that have migrated." There's hardly any bite to Danny's words, nor does he make any sort of effort to shrug Steve off.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to take a bath." Steve grins, far too triumphantly to make Danny feel any more comfortable.

"Give me the damn soap."

Steve drops it into the water in front of them.

"Thank you."

Steve plucks it away before Danny even has a chance to reach out for it.

"Who said you were gonna be the one washing yourself? Ass up, Detective, you have no power here." Steve detaches himself from Danny's body and places him on a smooth stone just under the water's surface, all of this before Danny really can work up a good reason for why he's perfectly capable of washing himself.

"I don't have any power here? Listen, McGarrett, I heard you back in the tent. The "yes sir" and that look that kids get at Christmas when I held you down." Danny's trying his best to look at Steve, only Steve keeps moving out of his line of sight as he lathers up his body.

"I'm submissive in bed, alright? Well, with guys anyway."

Danny nearly falls off his rock.

"You're a sub?"

"No, not a sub – just submissive. I don't play, if you get what I mean."

"I don't."

"You're not familiar with the finer aspects of kink, are you?"

Danny's starting to have his arousal replaced with confusion – sexy confusion sure, but confusion all the same. "Should I be?"

"Well… not yet anyway." Steve finally makes it back around to Danny's front, having scrubbed his back and shoulders so hard – and quickly – that Danny's practically glowing. "I mean, if you're not into that sort of thing, that's cool. I've only ever done it a couple times, played out a scene or whatever. But Danny, I'm serious about being submissive – I like being held down, I like being talked dirty to, and I love to get fucked up the ass until I can't see straight."

Danny's hanging on so tightly to every single word that it's a full minute before he even realizes Steve's stroking his cock again and his mouth is lurking dangerously near.

"You… you do." A statement, not a question, and Steve's more than happy to confirm.

"I do. And I want you to be the one who does all of the above to me. Also – do you feel clean enough now for me to give you head?"

The moment that Danny Williams finally runs out of words to say will forever be flash frozen in Steve's mind – it's strange, for Danny to be stunned into silence but hey, Steve knows he'll be making all sorts of noises soon enough.

Danny manages one, mostly firm nod before Steve's diving open-mouthed towards his dick with an intent that Danny normally only sees when he's going shoulders-first through a door and there's a terrorist behind it.

It's uncomfortably hot and Danny realizes that in all likelihood, the sex they're going to have over the coming days/weeks/decades is going to be nothing short of intense, both probably that much closer to death by the time they're finished.

Steve, at first, keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his mouth around Danny's cock. There's a faint trace of sweat still lingering but he mostly tastes the soap he's just washed over it. No, more than anything else he's just… warm, in spite of the less than ideal temperature of the water. Steve can live with that, and he intends to find out just how much he can warm Danny up. Oh, and Danny's even thicker in his mouth than Steve had anticipated – he can feel his jaw already starting to ache. That's also a plus, because when he's in Steve's ass the results are bound to be incredible.

"Hey, Steve?" Danny sounds reasonably composed, even though Steve's swallowed him three quarters of the way down.

Steve lifts his eyebrows as if to ask "yes" – he's not taking Danny's dick out of his mouth if he can help it.

"You just gonna hold it like that or…"

Steve smiles, taking Danny's hands from where he's got himself propped up and putting them on his head. If Danny wants action, Steve can give it. He can _definitely_ give it.

Danny chalks it up to Steve's determination to be good at literally everything and hopefully, _hopefully_ his repressed "wanting to do Danny til the cows come home" feelings as to why he's currently receiving the best goddamn blowjob he's ever gotten. Of course last night flits through his mind, high school aged Steve sucking off his friends, that single, lascivious look into his past that leaves Danny's head spinning – but that was heat of the moment, intended to get Danny and himself off – and Danny keeps it to himself, deciding to not ask about it again as Steve tugs the base of his dick and pulls his foreskin all the way back.

Steve's not been with a ton of uncut guys – he only remembers one vividly, a three week boyfriend at the Naval Academy who'd been all hands and mouth and had made Steve's life an achey blur from the sex they had – but old skills come back to him quickly, and Danny's not likely to say no if he's a little rusty. He pulls off of him almost completely, gentle as he takes Danny's foreskin between his lips and holds it there. It's a beautiful disaster to watch as Danny melts, panting _Steven_ and _fuck_ and _that's it baby_. Steve teases his tongue over that precious bit of flesh, his other hand stroking Danny's cock halfway, coaxing out precome. Steve manages to hold eye contact with Danny for about thirty seconds before it gets to be too much, the rushed "I'm going to come" almost instantaneous as the first heavy spurt splashes against Steve's tongue.

Danny moans, tugging and pulling at Steve's hair to the point of it burning his scalp – Steve doesn't stop though, swirling his tongue around the fat glans and coating the inside of his mouth with Danny's spunk.

"Fuck, McGarrett," Danny breathes, "you're a fucking filthy bastard." Danny's wobbly now, watching Steve smack and lick his lips, his cheeks and nose streaked with jizz.

"Tell me something I don't know, Danno." Steve leans up out of the water like some sort of muscle bound mermaid and kisses Danny, open mouthed and sloppy. It thrills Steve that his boyfriend is already taking to liking come as much as he does, both of them trying for tonsillectomies that taste more than a little bitter.

It makes Steve's head feel light and if he's being truthful, he doesn't want it to stop. Ever.

Danny's managed to get a hand between them while they were making out, grabbing a hold of Steve's cock and doing his best to switch their positions by pulling Steve out of the water by it. "Think it's my turn, babe." Danny gives him another kiss, come sticky and still unlike anything he's ever tasted before. Danny's not in the past been super enthusiastic about eating come but with Steve? He'll do it until he's blue in the face and then demand more.

Steve launches himself out of the water and in one quick motion is on the rock, cupping the back of Danny's head and stealing one more kiss before Danny sinks lower. Steve's tall enough that most of him sticks out of the water, moisture running over his skin in rivulets and making him look every inch like the centerfold of Playgirl. Danny tilts his head back to admire, all ten fingers making their way over his body as he familiarizes himself with the divots and crevices of Steve's chest and stomach.

"I promise I'm gonna go down on you, just… let me admire you a second, huh?" Danny sloshes water as he paddles forward to kiss Steve's chest and collarbones.

"Take all the time you want, babe, I'm not going anywhere." Steve places unmistakable weight on the word _anywhere _and it makes Danny's heart hammer pleasantly slow inside his chest.

Danny kisses the space over Steve's heart, letting his lips linger for a moment before he laps at the water dripping over Steve's body. He nuzzles against the dark hair over his pecs, his left hand curled over Steve's hip and his right jerking him with a lethargic but steady rhythm, in absolutely no hurry at all. Steve keeps his hands on Danny's shoulders, kissing Danny's wet hair as his partner moves lower and lower.

"You know, there may have been a guy or two in the past," Danny murmurs, his nose level with Steve's navel. "A couple good friends from my baseball team in college who liked to get head after a big win." Danny looks up at Steve, intent on giving his boss a taste of his own sweet medicine.

"Yeah?" Steve sits up, interest burning so intently in his eyes that Danny checks himself for two holes being bored into his skin.

"Mmm hm," Danny continues. "Never said anything about it afterward, just drink some beer and hang out naked, you know? But man, we got into it. One of them was kind of like you – absolutely lived to have his face coated in come." Danny nuzzles Steve's balls, drawn up from the cold water but still big under the tightened skin of his sac. He tongues each one of them, slow so that he can make Steve shiver as much as possible.

"What… what was his name?" Steve's voice sounds positively wrecked and Danny's not even done that much yet.

"John – nice guy, tall, dark handsome. Kind of looked like you, actually. He was always more affectionate, too. Sometimes it'd be just he and I, no bullshit, just making each other feel good." Danny sucks a bruise into the inside of Steve's left thigh, proud of himself when he realizes it's going to take time to fade.

"Lucky guy." Steve notices that the rain's starting to come through the trees now, having just been pattering on the leaves overhead before. He gets the feeling he and Danny are about to be stuck in a downpour but he's not budging for the world.

"We almost dated – _almost_. Just didn't feel right when we talked about it though. But man, we had a lot of sticky fun. Trouble is –" Danny finally starts to lick his way up the bottom of Steve's cock, gathering up the giant bead of precome that's gathered at the slit when he reaches it onto his tongue and smearing it around his lips "- he wasn't nearly as good of a kisser as you." Danny's enjoying watching Steve hang onto his every word, interest mixed with a touch of jealousy.

"I'm better, Danno." Like Steve has to say it out loud so that Danny has proof.

"Yeah, you are Steven. And I don't really feel much like going down on anyone else, so…" Danny lets those precious words hang in the air for half a second before he opens his mouth as wide as he can go and takes Steve a third of the way down.

Steve practically howls.

The trouble with being a small guy is that his mouth simply isn't that big – and Steve's dick, while super fun to look at and handle – isn't going to fit without a fight. Danny has to raise himself up a little further, feeling his head swim as he realizes that he's going to have to practice _a lot_ if he ever wants to deep throat Steve with any sort of finesse. Still, he's experienced enough to get Steve off today, even if it's not going to be the greatest blowjob ever.

"Danno, your fucking _mouth_-" Steve's words sound like they've been ground out of him, his voice tremulous. Danny swirls his tongue a few times, concentrating on where Steve's frenulum would be if he had a foreskin; every guy still has that sweet spot, cut or not. Steve's leaving hand prints on Danny's shoulder where he's gripping him so hard, each pink mark proof that Danny's doing his best to end his life.

Danny hums, jerking Steve off, fast, slow, fast, slow, slurping noisily to make up for not being able to take him down that far. He spares Steve's face a glance, his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open as he sounds out each passing second. Danny can get used to that, very, very quickly, because Steve doesn't look in the least bit troubled or harried. No, right now he's just a guy enjoying his boyfriend's mouth in what probably amounts to paradise, cold ass water and rain falling from the sky aside.

"Danny, please, gonna come babe, shit."

"In my mouth, babe, right on my tongue." Danny leans back, his tongue out flat and pink, still jerking Steve off without missing a beat.

"Shit –" and then Steve comes, two ropey spurts leaping up and over Danny's mouth and landing slightly across his face, the rest of it sliding down Danny's tongue and throat. He thought last night would have wrung him dry but no, not when it's Danny on the other end. He feels his body turn to mush, shaking with the effort to sit up and as soon as Danny's sucked him through the last aftershock he's sliding off the rock and into the water.

Danny catches him, imitating Steve earlier by putting his arms and legs around his body and waist. Steve's already licking into his mouth, eager to taste them together again. Danny groans, oversensitive bodies rubbing together and making it awfully difficult to concentrate on well, anything.

"Think we're gonna have to be careful about how often we do this," Danny drawls some time later, tucked up near the rock and warming each other against the water.

"How come?"

"Because, it's hard to stop. Swear to God, Commander, you're gonna turn me into a filthy bastard."

Steve rumbles a laugh into the side of Danny's head, kissing the shell of his ear in the process. "Like you weren't already."

"I wasn't – this damned island has loosened my inhibitions so much that I let you come in my mouth – twice. And in the space of what, twelve hours?"

"Technically the first time wasn't quite as direct."

"It still went in my mouth. Along with your tongue. What are you like when you have a dick in you?"

Steve spins Danny around and kisses him again, long and sweet. He could answer right away, yes, but he wants to make him wonder – just a little bit.

"Guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?" Steve knows that Danny has a clue, he's just not going to say it out loud.

"I can make an educated guess. Loud, mouthy, probably a scratcher?"

Steve really does know how to pick 'em, because Danny's right on all three counts.

"Just as soon as we're off this mountain, I'll show you how right you are."

Danny's already pulling Steve up out of the water, energy returning all of a sudden and leaving Steve struggling to not trip over himself. Seriously, the guy's come twice – and hard – and without so much as a thought he's pulling Steve like a super-determined Jack Russell terrier.

"Well – what are we waiting for?"


End file.
